Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Suriname and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jesper Dahlbäck to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Rufus Thomas,
Deakin,
The Raincoats,
Toni Rubio,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Style,
Scott Walker,
Arab on Radar,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marcia Griffiths,
Isaac Hayes,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Copeland,
Boz Scaggs,
Hot Snakes,
Jacob Miller,
Black Bananas,
Japan,
The United States of America,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Average White Band,
Jawbox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eli Mardock,
Accadde A,
Brick,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Electric Prunes,
Reagan Youth,
Delta 5,
Jeff Lynne,
Blossom Toes,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Freddie Wadling,
The Birthday Party,
Bluetip,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
Ultravox,
Trumans Water,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boredoms,
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crooked Eye,
Stereo Dub,
New York Dolls,
Darondo,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.